


Something to Salvage

by Gnine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Because it's me, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, You Decide, hurt!prompto, what else was I going to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnine/pseuds/Gnine
Summary: Prompto knew befriending Noct would come with its own set of challenges.  He just hadn't realized some might be quite so life-threatening.  Getting out alive was the first step; now to figure out the second.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 62
Kudos: 466





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I was mostly done with FFXV and then my brain went "Hehe, yeah NO, surprise, there are still more evol things you can do to Prompto" and here we are. 
> 
> The idea for this was sparked from one of [Kaciart's](https://kaciart.tumblr.com/) oh so wonderfully inspiring streams, way back in April. It was supposed be just a short little thing but after rattling around for almost 8 months, it...sorta got away from me. Oops, guess that's what happens when I don't write for half a year...:-p

Against all odds, they were in one piece. More or less. Noct more and Prompto less. That was as far as Gladio's observations got in the fraction of a second between the doors blowing and himself and the rest of the rescue team streaming in.

Even as the bullets, blades and magic began to fly, Gladio couldn’t hold back a swell of pride witnessing the instant Noct's training kicked in, recovering from the shock faster than any of the men surrounding him. Arms still tightly tied, he shot up, colliding with two of his still fumbling kidnappers. Bringing all three of them to the ground, Noct managed to conserve the momentum, rolling rapidly to regain his feet and immediately turning to acquire a new target.

Confident in his royal charge hanging on until Gladio could close the distance between them, he spared a moment's attention to see how their secondary objective was faring. Braced for disaster, or at best further complications, Gladio couldn't hold back the grunt of surprise.

Though slower on the uptake than Noct, Prompto still responded faster than the brute who had him by the throat. Slamming his foot onto the man's instep, he let his weight carry him down as the grip around his windpipe loosened, only to rear back up, head ramming hard into the man's solar plexus.

Gladio was impressed. Completely surprised to the point of immediately doubting if he'd seen correctly, but impressed none the less.

To be fair, he'd be the first to admit he didn't really know the kid. Prompto and Noct had been hanging out for less than a year. And until this exact moment, Gladio’s impressions of the kid had been…less than stellar.

Beyond the initial security checks—of which Ignis had overseen the majority—Gladio's assessment of Noct's latest—okay, _only_ —close school acquaintance had been that he was loud, overly enthusiastic and generally hopeless. But if the Prince, for Astrals knew what reason, chose to spend time with what appeared to be a genuinely harmless hanger-on, who was Gladio to intervene.

Up until he revealed ulterior motivations and/or risked the prince's safety in any capacity, of course. They'd been burned enough times previously to never entirely rule out any threat, however unlikely.

But over the past few months, the more he'd observed them together, the more Gladio had come to the conclusion that moronic teen exploits would be what sank them. Which _clearly_ fell firmly in Ignis's purvey and thus Gladio felt confident dismissing Prompto as largely inconsequential.

A decision, which, unfortunately in hindsight, glaringly overlooked one huge angle of attack. Like getting nabbed to use as bait to reel in a bigger, royal catch.

Between phone records and school surveillance footage, they knew the anti-crown extremists had gotten hold of Noct roughly four hours ago. When they'd grabbed Prompto was less clear, but witness statements acquired from a hasty canvasing of his neighborhood put it likely sometime in the early morning, a minimum of two hours prior to Noct's capture.

The city-wide hijacked broadcast -- Noct, arms bound behind his back and bruises stark on his cheek, forced on his knees, grudgingly reading out their demands -- communicated swiftly and effectively how seriously these fanatics meant business.

But it had been Noct's eyes, the mix of rage and terror, that had struck Gladio to the bone. This was sadly not the first time, would likely not be the last, that Noct faced threats and violence. But Gladio couldn't remember a time he'd ever seen the depths of panic he'd caught in Noct's gaze as it had flicked to the camera. Then past it.

In a flashbulb burst, the significance had hit him: not one hostage but two. It was Ignis, just a second behind him, who realized the _who_.

Even as the revelation opened new avenues to their investigation, Gladio had braced to write Prompto off. While the Prince had value alive and intact, the same couldn't be said for the kid. Nor could his safety be a priority in any rescue attempt.

Finding him bruised and beaten but still breathing was an unexpected win. Not a hindrance but an actual help, that was a downright miracle. One which Gladio wasted no time taking full advantage of as he swept full-force into the room, finishing Prompto's start in dispatching his attacker.

The next swing of Gladio's sword brought him another step closer to Noct, all focus zeroing in on the exchange of blows going on around him.

But for that brief handful of breaths, Gladio thought maybe, just maybe, Noct wasn't _entirely_ crazy; maybe there was a little something to the kid after all.

*******

"—mpto? Hey, Prompto?"

The call was still reverberating when the touch on his shoulder registered. Instinct had Prompto rearing up and away a fraction of a second before he remembered just how bad an idea sudden movements were. Enough different body parts simultaneously screeched their protest to make it difficult to pinpoint which was most upset.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Prompto bit back a hiss, blinked up into the far-too-close-for-comfort face of Mr. Dellasanta. Close enough Prompto couldn't miss the deepening furrow of brow as his teacher's scrutiny continued.

Forcing sleep-blurred eyes into grudging focus, Prompto took in the seats around him, all empty save his own. So he'd managed to not only doze through the lecture, but the bell as well. Just what he needed.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to go to the nurse's office?"

 _Why did every teacher feel the need to make that suggestion?_ As he’d discovered yesterday, the nurse would just try to send him home, which defeated the whole purpose of dragging himself to school in the first place. Prompto bit off a groan, forced it into a laugh. "And have even _more_ make-up assignments to tackle?"

Of course, snoozing through every lesson wasn't exactly going to help with the whole not falling further behind argument.

He was just so freaking tired. Sleeping in class wasn't ideal, but at least it was _sleep._ Something the doctors had been pretty clear about needing plenty of if he wanted a speedy recovery. Which he did, more than anything.

It was just…since coming home from the hospital, whenever he'd start to relax, to drop off, he could _hear_ it. The phantom creak of the back door swinging open, the heavy tread on the stairs. That moment, seared into his memory, hand paused mid-tug on his tie, mouth open to call out but tongue frozen, the cold trickle of dread because he didn't _know_ those footsteps. The mad scramble at his bedroom lock only to be slammed back as the door burst open, hinges shrieking and wood splintering at the force of the kick.

The door had been replaced, and the outside locks all upgraded. Which should have been enough, honestly. And the first day, it had been. Mostly. Right up until his dad had left to rejoin his mom in Cleigne. He and his dad hadn't talked much. From the time he arrived at the hospital, for the two days total he was around, the majority of his time had been split between phone and laptop, trying to stay on top of all the work he was missing during his unexpected —unwanted—trip back to Insomnia.

Prompto hadn't expected to even notice his renewed absence, had underestimated how much the simple presence of a known quantity could quiet his over-paranoid mind.

It was stupid, he _knew_ he was being stupid, but no matter how many times he repeated it, that didn't change the fact that said stupid brain had decided to make a mountain out of every molehill, to build every squeak and creak into danger and attack.

Class and classmates may be noisy, but at least it was a familiar clamor. Exhausted as he was, that was all it took for his brain to finally decamp from its endless dash on the hamster wheel that his thoughts had become. Sleep's siren call, silent at night, became suddenly impossible to resist.

"Prompto? Here, let me walk you--"

Right. Classroom, teacher. Who was reaching for him again. Prompto shot out of his seat with all the speed of winded octogenarian, but the progress was thankfully enough to halt the questing hand in its tracks. So totally worth the twinge his ribs gave, the way the room wavered at the corners of his vision.

"No, it's…fine. I'm good. I'll just…" Prompto flapped his good hand, waving off any further offers of help—and contact. Began shuffling to the door.

He'd been assured the concussion was only mild to moderate. He'd hate to see what a major one was like, with the way his head hadn't stopped throbbing for a solid week now, a mix of low-level conga drums interspersed with ice-pick-being-stabbed-behind-his-eyeball bursts to spice things up occasionally. It made the simple chore of placing one foot in front of the other a surprisingly delicate balancing act.

Taking a needed pause halfway, a frustratingly long squint at the clock revealed he'd already missed almost half of lunch. But it wasn't like he'd bothered to prepare anything this morning anyways. And since he doubted he'd be up for anything more strenuous than ordering out for the foreseeable future, all his food money would be needed to afford take-out.

Continuing his nap would be the best use of his time. Just needed a better place to do so. Away from prying eyes—and unneeded questions. A glance confirmed Mr. Dellasanta still watching his all-too-slow progress, questions clear on his face.

But left unasked, thankfully. For how long though…

It was sheer luck Prompto had been out of school for the three days prior to the…incident. Just a dumb cold – not bad enough to rate the time off, even. But the last time he'd come to school sick, sniffling, and dizzy, Noct had ended up playing hooky to drag him home. Prompto only found out a month later how much trouble Noct had gotten in for ditching. No way Prompto could let that happen twice. So he'd emailed in sick and crossed his fingers that no one tried to call his parents to double-check.

In the end it proved his one saving grace. If he and Noct had gone off-grid the same day, anyone with even an ounce of logic would have put two and two together when Prompto returned at way less than one hundred percent. No matter that he'd been off camera throughout the now-infamous broadcast, or that they'd been careful to keep his name and involvement out of the news. No one would have bought his vague story of an accident.

This way, the coincidence, bad luck befalling him and Noct independently, if semi-concurrently, was at least somewhat believable. And he _needed_ it to be believed. The several debriefings he'd been put through had made that pretty damn clear. No one could know of the big gaping security hole that Prompto's presence had inadvertently opened.

Though Prompto wasn't sure why they'd bothered to warn him when the obvious plug had no doubt already been implemented. He couldn't be a vulnerability to Noct if he was no longer a part of Noct's life.

Prompto redrowned the thought as soon as it surfaced, as he'd been doing repeatedly for the last week. Ever since it first floated up as they were being loaded into separate ambulances. It was remaining stubbornly buoyant, unfortunately.

No one to blame but himself. If Prompto hadn't been so clingy, always hanging around Noct; if he'd taken more seriously the few times Noct had joked about teaching him some real combat skills, beyond the arcade. If he'd just had better security on his phone. It'd only taken them the time to pry his clenched fist open, press his finger to the reader, to have all the access they could ask for. To his contacts. To Noct.

His hand throbbed at the reminder. He'd never make that mistake again...if he ever got around to replacing his phone. It'd taken him ages to save up for the one he'd had, who knew how long it'd be before he could afford another.

But then, what was the hurry? His parents usually just emailed, occasionally left a message on the home phone. The store he sometimes worked nights at had already hired someone else when he failed to show up for two shifts in a row. Between the various bruised, broken, and concussed bits, he'd be useless at restocking anyways. Or pretty much any tasks, really, for at least the next month, maybe longer. No point rushing to find a new job.

And beyond that, there was Noct…There _used_ to be Noct.

If Prompto was lucky, they might let them talk at school. When—if—they ever let Noct come back. But hanging out, messaging, calling? When that was what tricked Noct out of his so-carefully crafted web of security once already? Yeah, Prompto knew what the answer would be without needing to ask.

And that was if Noct even wanted to, after Prompto had managed to lose him so many of his few freedoms. Each one obviously cherished and fiercely guarded, for all that Noct projected indifference. It hadn't taken them hanging out long for Prompto to realize their significance to Noct. The need for even just a wisp of a control, a scrap of independence.

But now? Why would Noct want to risk a repeat tightening of any strings he managed to convince them to loosen?

So no, a phone was not a priority. So many better things to spend his money on. Like a watch. That was the major thing – beyond King's Knight – that he was most missing from his absent phone. Would be really useful to know if he had enough time to shuffle up to the roof before the bell rang again and the halls filled. He and Noct had figured out how to jimmy the lock months ago; any good weather days they ate their lunch up there.

Next period was study hall. Prompto knew from past repeat performances he could get away with sleeping through it. But on the roof, teachers obsessed with nurse visits were blessedly absent. Or fellow classmates pestering him about any 'insider' knowledge when it came to Noct.

When he'd first returned to school, it had been almost non-stop. An endless – and unfortunately entirely true – mantra of 'nope, haven't heard anything from him since it happened.'

After the first few periods, everyone seemed to get the message, and he'd been left mostly to his own devices for the past day and a half. Until this morning, when interest seemed to have revived with increased intensity. Probably some new article or interview. He hadn't had the energy to ask and, lacking his phone, moogling it was out until he got home. But the odds of making it through study hall without a further barrage of questions was low.

So the roof it was, staircase be damned. It was only a couple flights, no problem. Could do it in his sleep.

Prompto was feeling less optimistic by the first landing, and upon finally, _finally_ , reaching the top, side screaming with every huffed breath, ice pick going all stab-happy behind his eye, he was questioning the majority of his life choices to date.

He took a moment to lean again the banister, convincing himself that he really really did not in fact want to hurl before straightening to fiddle with their rigged lock.

Between the dazzle of the sun and his own still-ragged breaths, it felt like the sudden figure looming in front of him appeared out of thin air. Heart slamming in his chest, entirely unrelated to the laborious climb he'd just undergone, fight or flight –flight, very much flight—kicked in and he scrambled back, hand fumbling for the door that'd already swung shut behind him.

"What the hells, Gladio?!"

The all-too-familiar squawk had Prompto freezing in place.

Eyes adjusting, he realized he knew the hulk before him – no less menacing post-recognition – as Noct's shield and friend. And pushing out from behind him was—

"Prompto?!"

Judging from the size of Noct's eyes, the disbelief shaking his voice, the surprise was mutual.

For one brief moment, overwhelming relief eclipsed all else. He'd been assured –only after non-stop pestering – that Noct was fine, hadn’t even had to spend the night in the infirmary. But being grudgingly told and being able to confirm it with his own two eyes were two very different things.

In the next second, responsible thought kicked in and Prompto instantly regretted actively ignoring this morning's gossip. Maybe then he'd have had some warning that Noct had been allowed to return to school. Way sooner than Prompto – or anyone else for that matter – had been anticipating. Though new rules were clearly in place, if Gladio's presence was anything to go by. Among other things.

"What are you doing here?"

Right. Good question. One Prompto really wished he had a better answer for than 'I wasn't paying attention, you're back early and no one's gone over the exact revised rules of how this is all supposed to work now'. He opted for the more succinct, "Um…lunch break?"

Which he regretted as soon as it popped out. Even before Noct's face darkened, a familiar – though rarely, if ever before now, directed his way – scowl appearing. Because obviously Noct should get first claim to this spot, and obviously if Prompto had been thinking he wouldn't have even come up here and thus forced Gladio to see him on his way. Which the big guy seemed about one second from doing, judging by his own glare.

"That's not what I meant. Why are you—"

Miracle of miracles, apparently not every Astral had entirely abandoned Prompto, as the bell went off, saving them all from the rapidly growing awkwardness.

"So…erm….we should probably head to class. Guess I'll see you around—"

"Prompto!" Noct bit out, sharp and brittle as untampered steel. "You--"

Prompto realized his blunder immediately, hastily pushed on, "I mean. Not. Won't see you. Or, well, I'll try my best not to, but…" Prompto trailed off. While the only class they shared this semester was P.E. –which, one good thing about being banged up meant he already had the doctor's orders to skip – it wasn't like he could guarantee they wouldn't run into each other in the halls. Or rooftops apparently.

Hand finally reaching the end of its lengthy quest for the door handle, Prompto wrenched the door open with more force than intended, its hinges squealing in protest. The ringing in his ears still wasn't enough to block out the urgent words being exchanged behind him as he beat a hasty retreat.

"He's at school! Why didn't anyone tell me? They have to know, right? They better know. They—"

Gladio's hissed rejoinder of "Noct, you agreed, we all agreed. In fact, you were the one who was insisting—" was cut off by the loud slamming of the door. Prompto was torn between relief and resignation in not knowing exactly what Noct had been so insistent on.

Study hall was looking even less appealing than when he'd first begun his stair climb. Even on the slowest of days, it was a hotbed of gossip, the obvious alternative to actually getting any classwork done. But with Noct back? Hard pass.

The boys bathroom? Could hide in a stall. But knowing his luck, he'd nod off and re-concuss himself on a toilet or something. Maybe that storage closet he and Noct had discovered last month when looking for an alternative to the roof on rainy days.

One downside, Noct knew about it, so couldn't rule out the possibility of running into him. On the plus side, it was small enough that he doubted Gladio would fit comfortably. So it should be safe, at least until Noct managed to convince the powers that be that that extra security was no longer necessary. Prompto gave it a month, two at most. Noct was unrelenting when actually motivated. So…closet for now.

The bell actually woke him this time – though Prompto realized he wasn't one hundrend percent certain it was just one period he'd slept through. But next should be history; he was already enough behind that if there was even a fraction of a chance he hadn't missed it...

He couldn't decide if the floor or the desk had been a worse place to sleep. Either way, he needed the help of the shelving for support as he creakily made his stiff, slow way to his feet. The crowded halls made the already difficult journey increasingly perilous.

Hugging the wall, bag slung to protect his exposed side – he'd learned that lesson the first day back after a stray elbow accidentally connecting the wrong way left him on his knees and wheezing – the goal slowly came into sight. Just a few more steps.

"Hey Argentum, just the man I was looking for. You talked to the Prince ye--"

He was fairly sure he knew that voice, maybe even considered him a friend, or a classmate of friendly standing at least. But the hands on his shoulders that accompanied it made it hard to concentrate. Hard to think, only feel.

"Dude, you okay? You don't look so good…?"

Fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to bruise, shoving Prompto down on his knees.

_"Too bad his royal highness doesn't have the intelligence to match that smart mouth of his. Guess we'll need to give him a lesson."_

The horror washing over Noct's face, snappy comeback dying on his lips. The kick that had followed. Prompto had heard the crack of his own breaking bones moments before the wave of pain had seized his chest. Noct's snarled threats of promised retribution interspersed with urgent reassurances.

"Argentum? You hearing me? Hey!"

"Uh, I think something's wrong. Maybe you should—"

The overlapping sights and sounds of past and present swirled around him, blending in a single blur of overwhelming sensation . Couldn't hear, couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_.

"Get away from him!"

Same words, same voice. Like two overlaid images, blurry until perfectly aligned, the Noct of then, the Noct of now. Everything snapped back into sudden focus.

Prompto was on his knees, his bag dropped beside him, contents scattered. And kneeling directly in front of him, hands out but not quite touching, was Noct.

"Okay, Prom, that's it. Slow breaths."

Breathing. Right. Even Prompto could follow that simple of an order. Maybe…as soon as his body remembered how to do so. It took longer than was excusable, but muscle memory eventually kicked in. His lungs thanked him but his ribs most certainly did not at the deep inhale.

With air came awareness that they were surrounded by a loose semi-circle of curious students and teachers chattering animatedly. Though none ventured too close. The unmovable wall that was an extremely pissed-off looking Gladio may have had something to do with that.

Prompto blinked, released another slightly less strangled breath. "S-sorry," he managed to gasp out, though quiet enough he doubted anyone but Noct caught it. "It's…I'm fine. You can…." He raised a badly shaking hand to try to wave Noct off.

Noct, who Prompto had managed to keep his promise to stay away from for all of a period. Noct, whose classroom was only just across the hall. Who knew the number of times they'd both been late to class, chatting till the last possible second, diving through their respective doors even as their teachers went to shut them. Prompto knew, should have remembered, should have waited until the halls were all clear and arrived late.

Or should have just gone home, or never have bothered to come in. Or done whatever it would have taken to not have Noct looking at him with that disappointed resignation. Again.

Prompto had thought he'd be immune to that look; he'd been on the receiving end of it enough times from teachers, neighbors, his parents, Gladio and Ignis and pretty much every other individual tasked with looking out for the crown prince.

But not from Noct himself, never from Noct. Not until that moment the van door had slid open and Noct's eyes had met his over the arm wrapped around Prompto's throat. Right before a hand shoved Noct in from behind, door slamming shut behind. That was the moment Prompto had realized just how badly he'd fucked up.

Prompto felt now the same mix of opposing emotions as he'd felt then. Relief, happiness even, because Noct was there, Noct had come, Noct would fix things. Noct would fix the mess Prompto had made.

Which brought him, both then and now, to the disgust, loathing, as reality in the shape of their audience, the circumstances, the look on Noct's face, all washed over him in a cold wave, reminding him of the storm of trouble sweeping in, himself the harbinger.

The second buzz of the bell – end of class change, beginning of last period – had Prompto and Noct flinching in sync.

Above their heads there was a low cough; Prompto glanced up in time to catch Gladio's pointed nod.

Following his line of sight, Prompto recognized Mrs. Letz, his history teacher, hastily clearing her throat. "Alright, you heard the bell. Everyone to class."

There were a few muttered protests, but all in all the crowd dispersed remarkably quickly. The hard glare and low growl Gladio directed at any stragglers proved unsurprisingly effective.

Prompto himself certainly felt motivated. Unfortunately his body had other ideas, refusing to cooperate. He'd barely got one leg under him before his knee buckled and he wound up falling back on his butt, hallway doing a slow lazy spin before reluctantly coming to a wavering halt.

Noct sprung forward instantly, only to freeze as Prompto instinctively jerked back.

Their hastily stammered 'sorrys' interwove into one sound .

But only Noct's was followed by a hissed, "Stop apologizing!"

Prompto hunched back, opened his mouth only to realize there was nothing else to say. He knew it wasn't enough, could never make up for the disaster he'd had a hand in creating, but he was at a loss for what else he could hope to do.

"Noct…" Gladio's low rumble brought Noct up short, spine going ramrod straight.

"Right…fuck. Just…" He shook his head once sharply, eyes downcast, before glancing back up, tone aggrieved. "What are you even _doing_ here?"

"Um..7th period? History--" The immediate hardening of Noct's expression had Prompto swallowing the rest.

"At _school,_ " Noct ground out.

"Because I didn't know you were going to be here!" Prompto found himself blurting.

The admission was like a pin popping an over-filled balloon; Noct deflated with a sharp exhale, shoulders slumping.

"Do you…you should probably go home."

Prompto nodded mutely. Best in the short term, but…what came next? Was he expected to drop out? Transfer? No one had said. No one had said _anything._ Noct's safety and security was paramount. He knew that, he _agreed_ with it. He just didn't know what he was supposed to do to ensure it. Had never realized before how much he jeopardized it.

But if there was something he could do, one last act while he still could claim the role of friend, he'd do it. As soon as he figured out what that was.

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

"Someone can take you. I mean…not us, obviously. But…"

Noct trailed off, grimaced. Because it _was_ obvious how uncomfortable Prompto was, how desperate he was to get away. And it wasn't like Noct could blame him. "I'll have Gladio contact your security, that'd probably be the easiest. Or would you prefer—"

"My _what?"_ Prompto's confusion seemed genuine.

Noct frowned. "The Crownsguard?"

Prompto gave another little shake of his head.

"The one assigned to your protection? I confirmed and she _is_ outside." It had been the first thing Noct had done following Prompto's hasty retreat from the roof. As soon as Gladio'd talked him down from chasing after Prompto immediately, that was.

Noct had no intention of apologizing for the dressing down he'd given for not being informed of Prompto's return to school. So what if he had specifically ordered the exact opposite, had insisted the new security avoid intruding on Prompto's privacy as much as was possible, as Gladio was quick to remind

Ignis had been the one to point out – days ago -- that this included not keeping tabs or reporting Prompto's actions back to Noct. No matter how much it was driving him insane not knowing. But _someone_ should have let him know Prompto was back at school.

So he wasn't blindsided. So _Prompto_ wasn't blindsided. So Noct didn't wind up forcing Prompto into such an uncomfortable, unwarranted confrontation.

So that Noct could have had more time to prepare his argument to get Prompto to postpone his return to school for at least a few days longer, because right now he was looking like death warmed over. Barely warmed. Vaguely defrosted. Clearly both school and Noct--and all the related bullshit-- were the last things he needed.

"Okay, I know I have no right to comment, but seriously, Prom, it's only been a week. You look like you should still be in the hospital, or at least in bed, not here! Your security would be more than happy to escort you home…" They'd damn well better be. Noct tried to keep his tone reasonable, convincing.

Prompto just looked further bewildered. "Yeah…no. I still have no idea what you're talking about…"

Noct couldn't hold back the growl, frustration choking his argument. It was Gladio who stepped forward, crouched down and gave Prompto a long speculative look.

"You didn't know about the security detail?"

"Um...no?"

"What?" Noct squawked. "But your dad! I know for a fact he okayed it. We had all the paperwork signed before you'd even been discharged from the hospital!" They may not have let Noct go see Prompto, but that hadn't tied his hands completely. He'd been able to force a few things to get done. And done quickly. "Why wouldn't he tell you?"

Prompto squirmed, looked uncomfortable. "Must…have slipped his mind."

Noct's opinion of Prompto's parents, not high to begin with, dropped another few pegs.

"So you…didn't know? Or notice? They _were_ ordered to be as unobtrusive as possible, but—" Shit. If Prompto didn’t know, that meant he hadn't agreed. Maybe would have refused yet another intrusion. Just one more way Noct had wound up fucking with Prompto's life.

"So…wait…you're saying there's been a Crownsguard following me around? Even when I'm at home?" Prompto asked.

Noct gave a slow nod. "Stationed outside."

"Even at night?"

Two at night. But Noct thought that was splitting hairs at this point, just nodded again. "But…there doesn't have to be. We can call them off. I guess. If that's what you want." Noct desperately hoped it wasn't.

Prompto was silent, seemed to be mulling it over. Noct held his breath. Finally Prompto spoke up again, haltingly.

"I mean…I guess I'm just wondering." Prompto grimaced. "Why?"

Noct's throat felt dry; he knew what was coming, couldn't stop from asking anyways, "Why what?"

"Why now?"

Good fucking question. Why _not_ sooner, why _hadn't_ they taken precautions earlier? The mocking huff of laughter escaped before Noct could stop it. "I know, too little too late. But…" Noct's voice grew stronger, steady. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do everything in my power to see it never fucking happens again."

Prompto's eyes had gone wide, head shaking slightly. Noct cursed himself silently, forced his voice lower. Prompto was already paying the price for Noct's failures; he didn't need Noct's frustrations dumped on him as well.

"So you know, this is no way contingent on…on our friendship. No matter what, the protection will continue for however long _you_ feel comfortable with it. Even if you'd prefer to go back to being just classmates…" Noct trailed off, felt the tension drawing his shoulders tight. Drew a deep breath. "Or you wind up never even wanting to see me again."

Prompto shook his head again, eyebrows scrunched. "Don't you mean the reverse?"

Noct was braced, had been bracing for almost a week now, but that was not any of the responses he'd prepared for. "Uh…What?"

"…isn't it _you_ not wanting to be friends with _me_? Or, well, at least not allowed to hang out with me. I mean—" Prompto stumbled on, gaining momentum before Noct had a chance to untangle any of it. "I mean, _I'm_ the one that screwed everything up! Even now, over a week and I can't even keep it together at school. Have to make a scene, drag you into it. Again. Why should you keep wasting your time? All you ever wanted is to have some hint at normal and instead here I am, causing trouble and then freaking out over some stupid little--"

Oh yeah. Noct may not be following all of this, but he had heard enough. More than enough.

"Stupid?! Little?! Of _course_ you're freaking out! Your house was invaded, you were kidnapped and had the shit kicked out of you and your life was threatened—repeatedly-- what the fuck else are you supposed to be doing? And all because of me. You should be mad at me, you _should_ hate me--"

"Ooookay." One large, tattooed arm fell between them, Gladio, shifting to intercede. It was only at that moment Noct registered how close Prompto and he had gotten, practically shouting in each other's faces. "Time out."

Noct drew a ragged breath, didn't miss the way Prompto winced as he did the same. Ribs, right. Noct felt yet another seed of guilt begin to sprout.

"Iggy, never around when you need 'im." Gladio muttered before raising his voice. "Doesn't take a genius to realize there's a truckload of misunderstandings going on here. Considering it’s you two, color me _not_ surprised. But I'm pretty sure we can find a place better than a school hallway to hash it out. "

Gladio held Noct's glare, pointedly glanced to Prompto. Noct didn't miss the way he was swaying, color barely improved from when Noct had found him, panicked and barely responsive amidst the cluster of gawking teachers and students. At least he was breathing now. Too heavily. Gladio couldn’t be more right. Noct nodded, made to stand.

Only then did Gladio turn to Prompto. "Now, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. But I'm getting the impression that if we can figure this all out, you prefer, though Astrals may question your sanity, to _not_ cut all ties with the royal pain in the ass over here?"

At any other time Noct would have protested, but he couldn't interrupt, couldn't make a sound, too invested in the response.

"Yes," Prompto agreed after what seemed like a lifetime. "If…I'm allowed."

The sweep of relief was strong enough Noct was almost bowled over. Then the full statement registered. "Allowed? Who the hell would—" Noct began, only to be shoulder-checked as Gladio moved to offer Prompto a hand up.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Best news I've heard all week. Noct, help him get his things, I'll call Ignis to pick us up."

The walk down to the entrance was slow going enough that Ignis's arrival was imminent by the time they made it. But Prom had accepted Noct's offer of a supporting arm the second time he stumbled, so that was something, at least. And Noct was also able to coax him to take a seat on one of the benches while they waited. He'd take his victories where he could.

Easing himself down as well, Noct was careful not to settle too close, kept his movements predictable. Prompto may be willing to give him a second chance, but Noct didn't want to push it.

He tried his best not to stare. On the roof he'd been too surprised to register much, and in the hall, other things had taken priority. But now, he finally had a moment to really look Prompto over.

He hadn't been exaggerating earlier when he said Prom looked like he should still be under medical care. Prompto was naturally pale, sure, but he usually had _some_ color…and not just a vaguely greenish tint. Pain lines bracketed his mouth and eyes and the bruising along one side of his face, from temple to chin, hadn't faded much, just shifted to yellows and purples. The red of the jagged cut on his forehead stood out on the pallid skin. The way he was hunching, his ribs were clearly continuing to bother him, and the deep circles under his eyes spoke of way too little rest.

Noct rubbed his own bruised knuckles. They had stopped aching days ago. His fist had been allowed to connect to far far too few faces before he'd been hauled to 'safety'.

For all that Noct had been trained to fight, raised to battle as his birthright, violence had never come naturally to him. But he'd never wanted to cause bodily harm more in his life than the moment that call had come through.

It had started with a text, innocuous enough. Just two words "Safe space?" It'd been an ongoing joke for the last few months, after Prompto had inadvertently disrupted a council meeting by sending Noct what would otherwise have been the best gif just at the worst possible moment.

Later, realizing how much of their private exchanges the fuckers must have read to know to start with that had made Noct sick to his stomach. But at the time, alone at lunch, with no one around, he'd thought nothing of it, just hit accept when the video call began ringing.

Prompto, still sick, bored and miserable with his lingering cold, was what he had been expecting. Prompto, gagged, fresh bruises smattering his ashen face, a knife pressed tight enough to his throat that a single red dot of blood made a slow trickle down his neck was the last thing Noct had been ready for. The idea of _not_ doing whatever they told him, whatever it took to get them to step back, to lower that blade, never even crossed Noct's mind. Not until much later.

"Hey…um, Noct?"

Prompto's quiet inquiry dragged Noct back from the recurring fantasy of sneaking into a certain heavily guarded Citadel detention center. No one had yet believed him when he said he just wanted a chance to 'talk'. Okay, so maybe he didn't believe himself either. Refocusing on the present and a potential problem he _could_ solve, Noct attempted a smile. "Yeah?"

Prompto was fiddling with the velcro on the brace on his hand, eyes fixed on his lap. "Why…why'd you think I didn't want to see you?"

Noct snorted. "You mean everything I listed earlier wasn't enough?"

Because it'd seemed pretty convincing to both Gladio and Ignis when he'd finally been able to articulate the gnawing worry that had been eating him alive after the fourth day with no response. Prompto had been dragged through hell for the one simple act of befriending Noct. Hadn't escaped without lasting damage. And nothing anything of them did now could make up for it.

"I mean, you never signed up for any of this. Now that you know what being around me really means…" Noct fought to keep the bitterness down, with little success.

Prompto lifted his shoulders in what looked to be an attempt at a shrug before he aborted the move with a brief wince.

Everything he'd been through, dismissed with a rise of his shoulders. Like none of what happened to him changed anything, like it didn't even matter. Because somehow it hadn't. Because it was fucking Prompto, and Noct had to fight off the urge to shake him. Or start shouting again. Noct took a deep breath instead. Astrals but he'd missed him so fucking much.

Prompto was still regarding him questioningly. Noct sighed.

"I guess…after all the calls went to voicemail, and none of my texts were answered – which I understand, I do. It's a lot to process, and you were probably sleeping for a good chunk of this week. But, well, just…I realized you wanted—needed some space. Guess I started worrying--what?"

Prompto had given up on his cast, turned to regard Noct head on, expression wry. "Dude, pretty sure you were right there with me when they rather memorably destroyed both our phones."

It had been an obvious intimidation tactic, the way the hammer had slammed down only a few centimeters from Prompto's already injured hand, plastic and shattered glass flying everywhere. But an effective one nonetheless. Noct grimaced. "Yeah, hard to forget. Which is why I had a new one sent to your hospital room with my new number plugged in, the first day."

Prompto continued to stare blankly for a moment before flushing slightly, looked away.

"Really slippery mind your dad's got there, huh?" It wasn't until Gladio's mutter –Noct hadn't realized he'd even been listening --that the implication sank in.

Noct whipped back around to stare at Prompto.

"You're kidding? He never even _gave_ it to you?" Noct regretted the outburst instantly as Prompto's head ducked even further. Noct reined in his volume and temper, forced his voice softer before going on, "So you never got anything from me? All the texts and calls…"

Prompto shook his head slightly. "Sorry," he murmured.

Noct bit down on the urge to snap at him again for apologizing. Instead focused on the fact that Prompto hadn't been avoiding or ignoring him. Which would be a lot more reassuring if it wasn't accompanied by the realization that Prompto must have thought Noct hadn't tried to contact him, hadn't wanted to see how he was doing. For the entire week. Hells…though that went a long way in explaining how Prompto possibly thought _Noct_ was upset with _him_.

The sight of Ignis's familiar black sedan pulling up was a welcome distraction from the sudden darkening spiral Noct's thoughts were spinning down.

Noct hopped up, then turned to help, Gladio doing the same from the other side. So close, it was impossible to miss the whimper when Prompto was less than halfway to his feet. The full-body tremor. Gladio met Noct's frown with one of his own.

"Blondie, how long since your last dose of meds?"

Prompto's eyes were closed. He took a moment, breath stuttering, before shaking his head minutely. "The prescription's too strong for school."

"You're running on over-the-counter stuff only?" Gladio sounded skeptical.

Noct only caught Prompto's momentary freeze because of his hand still under Prompto's elbow. "Prom?"

Prompto was even slower to answer this time. "We're, um…out. But I was gonna pick some up after school today. Or tomorrow….soon."

Gladio raised his voice to address Ignis who was just getting out of the driver’s seat.

"Yo, first aid kit, where's it at?"

Ignis raised an eyebrow before ducking back into the car.

Gladio jogged ahead to meet him, ignoring Prompto's "It's no big deal."

Noct choked on his first attempt, had to clear his throat before he could manage a quiet, if clipped, "Yeah, Prompto, it is _."_

No wonder he looked a breath away from collapse. Noct was not unfamiliar with broken bones, had suffered them on more than one occasion, between training and everything else. Unfortunately, regular potions were mostly ineffective on such injuries. Full elixirs were usually needed and with how much magic they used to create, the limited supply had long been reserved for emergencies only. Which meant, royalty or no, Noct had had to suffer through the more traditional methods of healing breaks just like everybody else. But he'd sure as hells done it thoroughly medicated!

Noct barely managed to bite off the further rant bubbling up, tabled it in favor of getting Prompto carefully situated in the back seat, even more careful than before to keep any jostling to a minimum. Didn't miss the barely voiced groan when he had to bend to climb in, no matter how much Prompto was clearly trying to suppress it.

Noct fished around until he located one of the bottles of water Ignis always kept freshly stocked. Grabbed the two pills from Gladio's outstretched hand and passed them on to Prompto before offering the water.

Prompto hesitated only for a brief moment before accepting both, downing one after the other. "Thanks."

Mission accomplished, silence fell over the car for a moment as Ignis got it started, headed down the driveway. It was only at the entrance gate that he paused, turned to inquire, "Are we heading directly to Prompto's house or are there any other necessary stops first?"

Noct was torn. Part of him wanted to say 'hospital' because Prom really was looking like shit, but he doubted Prompto would agree. And he _had_ been checked out and sent home. Days ago. Probably all he needed was some more rest.

His internal debate lasted too long; before Noct had reached a satisfactory conclusion, Prompto was already interjecting , "Oh, um…you really don't need to make the trip all the way out there. Just…dropping me off at the bus stop is fine—"

Noct was unable to fully suppress his growl. Thankfully Ignis spoke up before Noct said something he'd probably regret. "It's no trouble, Prompto. Traffic is still light this time of day."

"And," Gladio put in, "it'll give us a chance to have a word with your dad. And his forgetfulness."

Noct didn't miss the look of inquiry Ignis shot Gladio at the thread of anger woven into the oh so casual statement.

"He's…um… not home."

Gladio paused in the silent exchange he and Ignis were not so subtly having to toss out: "We can wait. What time does he usually get back?"

From the way Prompto hesitated, Noct had the sinking feeling none of them were going to like the answer.

"Um…late."

"How. Late."

The answer, when it came, was so quiet Noct had to strain to make it out. "Next month?"

Noct sometimes really hated being right. "He's already gone again?! And lemme guess, your mom never came back in the interim. So he just, what, left you all alone? When?"

"When what?"

"When did he _leave_?"

Prompto still wasn't making eye contact. "Just…just a couple days ago."

Noct's head was starting to throb, he was clenching his jaw so hard. In truth, the man’s absence was probably for the best. Because Noct was more and more certain if he ever _did_ meet either of Prompto's parents, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from offering a piece of his mind. Or preferably a fist…

"Okay, change of plans. Head to the Citadel."

Prompto's eyes went wide. "What, why?"

"Well, first off, the infirmary can check you out to make sure your recovery hasn't been hampered in any way, what with having to _entirely_ take care of yourself these past few days." The Citadel's medical staff was as good or better than any of the city's hospitals. "And then you're coming back with me to my rooms there, because _certain_ people still are refusing to let me go back to my apartment. And you just had a panic attack in middle of fucking school so there's no way in hell I'm just leaving you alone. While injured. In the same fucking house where you were first attacked!"

"Noctis." Ignis’s censor was sharp. Noct immediately had a flash of guilt; Prompto had flinched again, and no way that tense curled position could be comfortable. Not with all his injuries.

But before he could apologize, Ignis spoke again, voice far gentler than before. "Prompto, while Noct may be employing his usual lack of tact, he does have a point. Now, it's up to you—" Noct opened his mouth, shut it again at Gladio's warning look, allowed Ignis to continue uninterrupted, "But know that you are more than welcome to come back with us."

Prompto's eyes were darting between them all, and then down, a bug pinned by their combined focus. "Um, I…"

"Or," Noct jumped in again, "I guess we could always go stay with you, if you'd prefer to be home."

Gladio rolled his eyes, while Ignis cleared his throat. "While that's a commendable sentiment, you know it will be hard to convince security—"

"You know what, security can shove its—"

Beside him, Prompto was shaking his head. "No, I…that's fine. If…if it's really alright, the Citadel is...fine."

Ignis caught Noct's eye in the rearview mirror, his expression stern. "Prompto, you don't need to feel pressured by Noct. We can—"

"No!..I mean. It's just…my being there. You're sure no one's going to, like…forbid it?"

"Who the fuck’s going to—"

Gladio reached out over the seat to lightly cuff Noct upside the head. Noct glared, but conceded the point. Ignis meanwhile had already flipped the blinker on and was pulling over. That done, he turned around in his seat.

"Prompto." He waited, patiently, until Prompto slowly looked up, met his eyes.

"Why do you think anyone would object to your presence?"

The short bark of laughter Prompto gave was so mirthless, it hurt to hear it. "Should I start alphabetically or by category?"

"Prom…" The soft exhale escaped before Noct could stop it, but he resisted further, had faith Ignis could and would be most effective.

Prompto continued before any of the rest of them had time. "…I guess, I mean, aren't I a liability now? Everyone was making it pretty clear how huge a security nightmare this was, not to mention the whole ‘Noct could have been killed and it was all my fault’--"

Noct was biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. Thankfully Ignis didn't let him down.

"Prompto, no one blames you for what happened. How was this in any way your fault?"

Prompto snorted. Ignis pressed on, undaunted, "Were you doing anything against the rules, going anywhere dangerous or not recommended?"

"I…well, no, but.."

"They broke into your home, a place you had every reason to believe was safe."

Prompto shifted, looking uncomfortable. "But…shouldn't I have been able to defend myself. I mean...no one would be able to get to Noct through you or Gladio, or—"

"Kid," Gladio jumped in this time, "we've been trained, literally from birth. And even then…the right people, enough of 'em, striking at a bad time? Yeah, none of us could rule it out."

"My phone…they were so easily able to use it—"

"You made them break your fucking hand before handing it over!" Noct couldn't hold it in any longer. He didn't miss the exasperated looks both Ignis and Gladio threw him. Didn't care. "Prom, what else could you possibly have done?! You did everything you were supposed to. You did the most important thing of all."

Prompto looked like he was listening, but hearing and believing were two very different things. But the doubt remaining in his eyes had—at least momentarily—turned to question. Noct's gut churned, the need to persuade overwhelming.

"You held on until I got to you, until help got to both of us."

The only sound in the car was their breathing. Prompto had finally, finally fully met his look head-on, searching Noct's face as if it held some final answer. Noct tried his best to convey whatever it was he was seeking.

After a minute, a lifetime, Prompto swallowed, straightened up, voice stronger. "Noct's right. I…I don't want to be home." Noct noted the shine in Prompto's eyes, a glimmer of unshed tears. "I mean, I really _really_ don't."

The click of the blinker, the engine switching over from park to drive, broke the spell, followed by Ignis’s brisk, no-nonsense tone.

"The Citadel it is. I can pick up anything you may need from your house later if you would like. Or we can ask the security personnel to do so."

After a few more back-and-forths stressing that no, having someone go grab pajamas, clothes, and a few other odds and ends really would _not_ be a monumental undertaking, Prompto gave in, slumping back into his seat, the car falling silent once more.

After a moment Noct slid his hand across the seat, palm up. A few more blocks flashed past the windows; he was just about to pull back when Prompto's cool fingers curled against his own. Even as Prompto dozed off, head coming to rest against Noct's shoulder, they spent the rest of the ride with their hands locked.

****

The Crownsguard kept a database detailing all security-related information for its royal charges, including in-depth records for all persons who regularly came in contact with the Crown or heir. It fell to Ignis –and in theory Gladio -- to keep most information affecting Noctis up to date.

When the Prince first began attending public school, every student at each subsequent institution was given a cursory check, a perfunctory sweep for any outstanding red flags. That elementary school listing would have presumably been the first time Ignis ran across the entry for _Argentum, Prompto_. But in all honesty, he had no clear recollection.

It wasn't until a week into high school, when Noctis mentioned the same classmate for the third time in the span of an hour, that Ignis had cause to bring up the specific file. The in-depth background check that followed came back clean and Ignis updated his category to 'Classmate – verified', status changed to 'approved for association'.

Privately, he made a mental note to keep a closer eye. Astrals knew Noctis could use some actual friends his age, but based on past performances, the odds were high that this boy held ulterior, if not readily apparent, motives. But despite those doubts, the worst continued to fail to manifest.

And then, two months later, Ignis had been awoken in the wee hours of the morning from a call from Noctis’s security detail seeking approval for Noctis's request --demand-- to amend his usual weekend itinerary – i.e. sleep. He wished to go out. At 5:30 am. Because apparently that was when Prompto went jogging. And Noctis wanted to join hm. On a Saturday.

Bemused, Ignis had consented, later that day logging into the database to amend Prompto's file, adding on an approval for non-academic related activities.

But something lingered, long after the brief change had been made. Foreign enough that it took Ignis a bit to recognize: the feeling of optimism.

And, in the weeks and months that had followed, amazingly, it hadn't dwindled. Might have even grown.

While in crisis mode, Ignis hadn't had a moment to spare any energy on optimism, pessimism or any thought, emotion or energy that wasn't entirely devoted to regaining Noctis. But afterwards, when the dust had cleared, Noctis had been devastated.

And Ignis had been surprised to himself feel…disappointed.

Though he wouldn't go so far as to say it out loud, Ignis would admit, at least to himself, that it'd been hard to concentrate all day, waiting to hear how things had gone on Noctis's first day back at school. Gladio's call had been a welcome interruption. The reason behind it sparking his hope despite how much logic dictated skepticism.

But in the end, it went better than even Ignis's buried optimism would have ever dared to predict. While none of them would have faulted Prompto if he _had_ wished to pull back from his association with Noctis, and all the personal peril such a relationship demonstratively proved to entail, the fact he had _not_ spoke more of his character than any background check or detailed file ever could.

When Ignis had bid Noctis and Prompto goodnight, Noctis had looked truly relaxed for the first time in days, the tension of the past week finally ebbing away. And despite being under what still amounted to house-arrest in Noctis's very vocal opinion, it was the first time in days –in months, in _years_ —that Ignis could recall Noctis not looking miserable while in these rooms. Long before Noctis had made the move to his apartment, he'd taken to treating the Citadel's suites as no better than a much-loathed prison.

It was the lingering memory of Noctis's smile as he'd absently waved Ignis goodnight, attention mostly focused on Prompto, that had Ignis hesitating now as he stood before Noctis's door. But this council meeting had already been pushed back twice this week. Best to get it over with; quicker started, the quicker Noctis could return.

Ignis had headed back to his own quarters fairly early the night before so wasn’t sure when Noctis and Prompto had actually gone to bed, but considering the way Prompto had been nodding off, he doubted it was too late. Even so, waking Noctis on a Saturday was _never_ a pleasant task – the allure of sleeping in had quickly overcome the excitement of hanging with a new acquaintance shortly after that first bout of morning exercise, and even Prompto had been regulated to afternoons on weekends except for the rarest of occasions.

Which was why it came as a surprise to find Noctis's bed empty, the door to his adjoining bathroom open and the light off. Back in the hall, Ignis only then noticed door of the extra bedroom slightly ajar.

In the moment it took for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, Noctis had already looked up, finger on his lip to signal the need for quiet.

He was sitting up by the headboard, phone in one hand. The other was running slowly through Prompto's hair, whose head was pillowed on Noctis's chest, eyes closed, asleep.

Ignis acknowledged Noctis's request with a tilt of his head, silenced his footsteps as he came closer. Noctis glanced at the bedside clock. "Meeting?" he mouthed, grimaced at Ignis's nod.

"He had a nightmare, was only able to doze off a bit ago," Noctis murmured, barely a whisper.

He was clearly reluctant to move. Ignis couldn't really blame him. It had been readily apparent to all of them how ill-rested Prompto had been. Noctis was staring at Ignis, eyes big, plea unmissable for all that it was silent.

Ignis took a moment, adjusted his glasses, considering. "I'll find a reasonable excuse for your absence," he finally relented, voice as soft as Noctis's had been. The look of sheer gratitude made the impending hassle more palatable.

It wasn't until that evening, Prompto and Noctis squeezed on one couch, movie playing in the background, dinner simmering on the stove, that Ignis had a moment free to pull up Prompto's security file.

Gladio wandered in, bypassed Ignis in favor of the stove. Ignis didn't bother to look up as he heard the clatter of the pot, but was ready for Gladio's inquiry.

"I thought Noct banned this the first time you served it. 'Too many veggies' if I remember right?"

"Mn," Ignis agreed. "And yet he requested it. Apparently my version is still superior to what they serve at school."

"I'd assume so. What's that got to do with it?"

"It's one of Prompto's favorites."

Gladio snorted before replacing the lid, dropping himself into the chair beside Ignis to glance at what he was working on.

"Y'know," Gladio began, his voice somewhere between exasperation and amusement, "you could save yourself time down the road and just add the 'best' now."

Ignis paused mid-update, cursor blinking in the blank space that had until moments before still read 'classmate –verified'. Across the room, the sound of laughter could be made out over a blast from the TV, then both drowned out by Noctis's shout for when dinner was going to be ready.

Smiling softly, Ignis shifted his finger off the 'f', over to the 'b' key, and began to type.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wound up doing [an illustration](https://gnine2.tumblr.com/post/189712116852/scene-from-my-most-recent-ffxv-fic-because-i-find>an%20illustration) for the panic attack scene because apparently I'm incapable of writing without it taking over everything else as well. Like my art. And dreams :-p. 
> 
> Thanks to you all for the wonderful feedback for the first chapter. So very much appreciated! Was fun to jump back into the Prompto hurt for a bit ^__-.
> 
> And thanks, as always, to Xparrot for being both an awesome sister and awesome beta!


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